200 San Jacinto Boulevard
Austin, Texas
512.480.0084
www.cafecrepeofaustin.com
Like most hobbies, traveling is expensive. Frightfully so. Before you can say, “wow, really wish I was employed but it is so totally great that I still live in my parent’s basement so I can afford this trip,” you have just clicked Confirm Order and officially sold your soul to the Devil, also known as, American Airlines. In the blink of an eye, you can easily drop a couple grand on a plane ticket; one that will end up costing approximately eleventy million dollars (and some change) after the credit card interest kicks in. Traveling also tends to be equally time consuming. A quick trip to Bangkok can cost you 26 hours of your life. I once made the long journey out there and it took me three days to realize that it was tomorrow. True story.
Fortunately, one can sometimes stumble upon neighborhood eateries that transport the lucky diner to a different place -and even time- entirely. Just the other day, I hosted a couple of weekend guests. After shunning the one hour plus wait at a certain downtown spot renowned for its Sunday brunch, we meandered to Le Café Crepe on San Jacinto. The cynic in me desperately wants to say something negative and bitchy about this café. But alas, I find myself at a loss.
My wallet destroying travels have taken me a time or two to France, where my sustenance subsisted entirely of cigarettes and crepes with Nutella. I am wary of American crepes, which often bastardize the nearly sheer pancake with an uncomfortable thickness. I walked into Le Café Crepe with that same chip on my shoulder, only to be completely disarmed by the marigold walls and sweet bistro seating. Even the bathrooms were darling. So pretty in fact, I washed my hands twice. I knew instantly this was a tiny corner place with a big heart.
Indeed, Le Café Crepe charms with its simplicity. A short order kitchen, all I had to do was walk up and order my crepes. Right before my eyes, on three giant griddles especially made for the task, my little treasures were created. If that were not enough, a jovial French couple owns the cafe. Yes, real people from France.
The real sell is the food. I had a Norweigan crepe, with smoked salmon, tomato, dill and herb Boursin. I was delighted to find the pancake exceptionally skinny, with the ingredients folded in the proper French way. They brew a rich, dark, local coffee that kept my droopy Sunday self begging for more. We all ordered savories but ended with a shared sweet Napoleon, embellished with Grand Marnier, sugar and whipped cream.
The food, the people and the quaintness urged on our nearly two-hour breakfast. Just when we thought we could not possibly fit another bite of basil and mozzarella pancakes, we were asking for a round with rum raisins and honey. All the while, our new French friends did not bat an eyelash, seemingly pleased to spend their morning with satisfied customers.
I think the best experiences are often those that transport you. Hopefully to a happy place and not that time you got a jellybean stuck in your nose during third grade recess. Although these experiences can sometimes pillage our bank accounts, somehow magically -for about ten bucks and without the uncomfortable frisking by security- I felt like an Austinite in Paris.
by Phyllis Anastasia Gasper
[Photo: Matthew Gonzalez]
